


Intangible

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Blowjobs, Boys Kissing, Car Sex, Come Swallowing, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken sex, Goten Is A Cock Tease, I'm a DoucheBag, Kinda Dub-con?, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 21:15:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7480305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But here is Trunks. With the sweet smell of cinnamon rum on his lips, the ever present rise and fall of his chest, the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. They’d been friends ever since they came out of the womb. But now he felt intangible. If Goten reached out to touch him, he’d become a cloud of dust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intangible

Goten’s entire being was submerged in a body of sake. His entire life seemed dull and meaningless without the alcohol drumming through his system. 

“Can you even drive yourself home?”

Trunks voice is far away and listless, even though he’s beside Goten. Completely sober, beautiful Trunks. Goten’s thumb strokes the olive colored skin of his friend’s hand. For some reason, Trunks shutters. The younger man smiles. 

“Nah. But that’s why you’re here, right? You aren’t just here to look pretty, are you?”

The bar around them is monochrome, the music is radio static, the people grinding against each other on the dance floor are dolls. Everything is an illusion and Trunks is the only thing that’s real. 

“Goten, you’re really drunk.” 

How did he get so close? Goten looks down at his parted lips. 

Marron had never looked so appetizing. Maybe because he could have Marron anytime he wanted. Even now, if he called her and purred into her ear, she’d let him inside her. It didn’t matter that they were broken up. 

This entire situation was her fault. She’d taken him to a nice place and calmly said that she was leaving him. Not because she didn’t love him, but because he didn’t love her. Bullshit. What did she know about love? 

She might’ve been right, Goten thinks to himself. She might’ve been completely on target because he was terrified of being alone and Marron had been a perfect substitute for a real relationship. She was the practice round, he realizes, the one that ‘didn’t count.’ Maybe she was afraid of loneliness too. Maybe that’s why she put up with him for so long.   
But here is Trunks. With the sweet smell of cinnamon rum on his lips, the ever present rise and fall of his chest, the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. They’d been friends ever since they came out of the womb. But now he felt intangible. If Goten reached out to touch him, he’d become a cloud of dust.

He was rare. He was gorgeous. 

Trunks slides off the barstool, “I think you’ve had enough. I’ll drive you home.” 

Goten intertwines his fingers in Trunks’ as they make their way through the crowd and to the door. It feels a bit like giving up something important. Like Goten was walking away from something big that he couldn’t ever go back to if he tried. 

Under the streetlights that make his eyes shine like polished sapphires, Trunks kisses him on the lips. He’s grabbing Goten’s shoulder to the point of bruising and it gives him goosebumps. His teeth are gently biting his lower lip, trying hard to contain themselves so they don’t bite through. Goten isn’t sure if he minds the mutilation, as long as it’s Trunks marking him. The younger of the two slips his tongue into Trunks’ mouth, but he steps away. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Goten’s face is red. All he wants now is cinnamon flavored kisses and Trunks’ hand down his pants. Is that really too much to ask? 

“This isn’t right. You just broke up with Marron and you’re drunk. You aren’t thinking clearly.” But he wants it too. Goten can see it in his eyes and how they bounce back from his lips to his cheeks and back to his dark gaze. “I’m taking advantage.”

“Is it really taking advantage if I want it too? I’m a fucking adult, Trunks. You’re a fucking adult. We should be able to fuck, like adults.”

“But we’re friends.”

“What friends haven’t fucked before?” 

Okay Goten. Faulty logic. But Trunks smiles weakly at him and takes his hand again. It’s warm and rough against his skin. With a shutter, Goten knows he wants that hand everywhere. He wants Trunks in every way possible and it hurts that he’s already had a taste but is denied any more than that. 

“Pretty sure that isn’t what friends do, normally.”

“Let’s ruin our friendship then. Just for a little while and we can forget it ever happened.” 

Trunks is guiding his drunk ass to the car. He isn’t looking at him. Goten leans in and presses a tentative kiss to where his jaw and ear and neck meet and feels him bristle.   
In the car, Trunks attacks him. The passenger side seat is lowered to the floor and suddenly Trunks is straddling him. He’s hard against Goten’s inner thigh. 

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers in his ear, “What’s wrong with me?” 

“You’re gay as fuck and in denial.” 

Trunks chuckles, a deep rumble in the back of his throat. His hand grips the back of Goten’s neck possessively, but gently. His thumb smooths the hairs on the nape of his neck. He kisses Goten again, more feverish and hungry. Goten would be lying if he said this display wasn’t a turn on. 

He grinds against him fruitlessly, moving against Trunks’ hips shallowly. At any moment, he’ll would snap out of it, they’d go home and Goten would have to jack off in the shower to get any action tonight. But then Trunks’ hand slips between his legs and rubs along his inner thigh. 

Oh, Okay. That was unexpected. Unexpected, but not unpleasant. 

“Take your shirt off.” Trunks demands. Being commanded to strip strikes something in Goten that he didn’t know was there. It all goes straight to his cock. He strips and Trunks hums appreciatively. 

The next few moments are nothing but a drunken blur of skin on skin, teeth hitting teeth, and wandering hands. Trunks shirt is gone, thrown somewhere into the backseat forgotten. There are bruises all over his neck and shoulders from Goten’s overly eager love biting. 

He loves seeing them. Because they show that the older saiyan is his, because Trunks will know who left them in the morning. He grinds his hips into the man below him. Goten lets out a loud moan at the friction. His jeans suddenly feel way too tight. The sound of a zipper rouses Goten out of his thoughts. 

Trunks’ pants are down around his thighs alongside his underwear. He’s stroking himself, pre cum already pooling at the slit. He presses the head against Goten’s lips. He engulfs it without question, tongue encircling the head. He moaned around him at the salty taste. The absolutely sinful noise Trunks makes Goten’s cock twitch. 

The lavender haired saiyan grabs his hair and forces him to take him farther. The lack of space forces Goten’s neck into an awkward position, but he couldn’t give any less of a shit if he tried. A gasp falls from Trunks’ lips as he drags him across his cheek. He bobs his head up and down, adding just the barest hint of teeth as he sucks Trunks’ cock. 

“Fucking hell, chibi,” Trunks moans, “How long have you wanted to do that?” 

Goten swallows him in response. His throat tightens as he runs out of air but he doesn’t care as long as Trunks’ fingers are tugging at his scalp, as long as Trunks is coming down his throat. 

And he does, he snaps his hips upward and shoots his load down Goten’s waiting throat. He gently pulls Goten off, cum and spit connecting his lips to him. 

“We’re going home,” Trunks says hoarsely, “We’re going home and I’m fucking you into the next century.”


End file.
